


Stare

by MakeSadieStop



Series: Nothing Hurts [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: (Literal) Office Romance, (Newly) Established Relationship, Angst, Fluff, Gaara doesn't have time for your shit, I mean like strongly implied Naruto wtf, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, playful banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 14:38:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeSadieStop/pseuds/MakeSadieStop
Summary: Naruto is pouty and demands attention, so of course he can't let Gaara be productive in the slightest. Opening for a playful(?) confrontation regarding responsibility.





	Stare

Gaara can't figure out how to work under these _conditions_.

He’s behind, so very behind. Even if paperwork is (understandably) the last thing on his mind these days, he’s the Kazekage, and he ought to know better than letting it fall through the cracks for so long. Of course this is the first time it’s happened, but the council is still reluctant to have such a young leader, and he can’t afford to give them any reason for doubt. One time is the first step to a habit.

Not only did Temari make him feel like an errant schoolboy, not only did she shove the thoughts in so hard that they still pop up of their own accord, but she did it through a fistful of perfectly appropriate titles and honorifics. There aren’t a lot of women who can call a man a lord and convince him he’s a dimwit in the same breath.

Haruno Sakura is another among them, Gaara is sure. And knowing Naruto, she must have to demonstrate this status very often.

The newly-appointed Seventh Hokage surely knows how overwhelming the workload can become, how hard it is to concentrate after so long without the routine.

But Uzumaki Naruto has no mercy, no sympathy, and no sense of decency. And Gaara can’t take it anymore.

“Stop looking at me!”

“Haven’t I told you about your interior decorating? Not much else to look at.”

“Then just stop looking at me like—like—”

“Like?” The prompt comes so easily, so casually. Naruto has leaned back in his chair, one sandaled foot slung over the opposite knee. Before Gaara’s outburst, he had his head listing to one side, eyes lazing half-shut—just like that teacher of his, only _absolutely sordid_ in a way that a professional like Hatake Kakashi would never dare. Not in the workplace.

“Like you’ve seen me naked!”

“Are you an insomniac or an amnesiac?”

Naruto the knucklehead ninja should not know such big words. Gaara the living weapon should not be so flustered by their implication. He has to clear his throat an inordinate number of times before managing a reply, and by then, Naruto’s grin shows an obnoxious number of teeth.

“Just keep your eyes to yourself so I can get something done.”

“Hey, who invited me?”

“You looked like I’d stomped on your heart when I suggested you stay alone in my house.”

“Because my poor heart just can’t bear a separation from yours, Gaara.”

Gaara will not dignify such unwarranted cheesiness with a response. That’s mostly because he will not lift his head to give it, because he doesn’t want to see that stupid smirk on Naruto’s face when Naruto sees this stupid blush on his face.

He jabs and slashes at the paper in front of him. To imagine the splashed ink as a spreading bloodstain is vaguely calming.

A dozen pages are victims of gruesome murder before Gaara glances up and his furious composure is ruined.

Not having any to call his own, and growing up with far bigger problems than facial aesthetics, Gaara has never quite understood the human fixation on eyebrows. He’s always assumed that it’s an issue of communication, which makes it an issue easy to dismiss—he doesn’t much like communication, and a narrowing of his eyes alone makes any necessary thoughts (such as _Leave_ and _Die_ ) more than clear.

Only, he is so, _so_ wrong.

When Gaara first looked, Naruto was just taken aback, mildly concerned: _what does he have against authorization forms_? But then, Naruto catches him, and Gaara is promptly stabbed with a razor-thin blond kunai.

The lift, the arch, the c—whatever you want to call it, it’s enough to send Gaara’s pen clattering to the desk.

He’s not looking at Gaara like he’s seen him naked, but with the way Naruto _grins_ at the fumbling, the wheezing, the bastard is _sure_ he’s about to.

There’s no way for Gaara to retaliate. This _truly_ isn’t fair.

And Naruto knows it.

“You seem tense.”

“You seem to have a death wish.”

“Maybe you need a break, huh?”

“Yes. _Please_.”

As Naruto stands, he seems quite perplexed by the index finger raised towards the wall.

“What’re you trying to say?”

“That’s the direction I want you to face.”

“Wait, why—”

“You’ve been _distracting_ me for too long. Now I have a matter of days to get it all done. What I need a _break_ from is this _indecency_.”

“Indecency?” Naruto ponders the word. He tilts his head from side to side as he does, exposing his neck in perhaps the most unfair manner yet.

“When I go get the dictionary, am I opening it, or am I smacking you with it?”

“I know what it means. I’m just confused.”

Gaara has seen confusion on Naruto before. This was not how it looked. At least, not before puberty.

“I’m just thinking, I got you to stutter out _a_ _lot_ of words, but ‘indecent’ wasn’t one of them.”

Gaara tries a different finger.

Naruto is so stunned by the gesture that he actually listens. Within the next few seconds, he’s cross-legged in front of Gaara’s desk, likely boring holes into the wall with sheer indignation. Satisfied that the X-rated eyebrows can’t reach him from down there, Gaara returns to his work.

Eventually, he must pause: headache, vision, all the other horrors chanced by every workaholic. And there’s not one single spike of yellow in his line of sight. He raises halfway from the seat to peer over the desk—Naruto would be just the type to scoot back against it and then leap up as he checked—but no jumpscare comes. Naruto has abandoned his assigned post.

Gaara is tempted to curse, but the click of a locking door interrupts his search for the word.

Then _his hands_ —why always the hands?—coaxing him back into the chair by the shoulders.

“What do you _think_ you’re—”

“I told you, you’re tense.”

“Only because—”

“I’m a very relaxing distraction, so sit, will ya?”

“You’d be more relaxing if you unlocked the door.”

“That’s just so no one interrupts your meditation session.”

“I didn’t see one on my schedule.”

“I’d take that pen and write it in, but you’re a flight risk.”

“Is it really meditation if I have to be held down?”

“I’m not holding you down. This is a shoulder massage.”

“A massage.”

“Uh-huh.”

“With the door locked and the windows shut.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The pressure only keeps him from shrugging or standing. Gaara has the freedom to arch his neck over the chair back, gazing upside down into blue eyes as he raises a hand to cup his captor’s cheek.

“Uzumaki Naruto, you are full of shit.”

Naruto’s scandalized expression is rendered unconvincing by the spreading grin.

“You use that kind of language in _official meetings_ between Kage?”

“This isn’t an official meeting. This is Bring-Your-Pouty-Fox-Boy-to-Work Day.”

“Is tomorrow Stubborn-Ass-Raccoon-Eyed-Boyfriends-Should-Lighten-Up Day?”

It’s not even worth a twitch of the mouth. Except Naruto used _that word_ , the whole word, and Gaara is suddenly, inexplicably, so dizzy that he has to let his head drop forward again, and squeeze his eyes shut, or the pipe will burst.

“ _Hmph_. Good.”

Gaara isn’t sure when Naruto knelt down, taking the convenient shoulder as a chin rest. But he knows _exactly_ when the fingers traced in his hair, down the nape of his neck, tugging the high collar back from skin.

This is dangerous territory.

“We need to think about why you’re here.” He must change the subject before the threat goes any further.

“Huh?” It stops. Just pinching at fabric, one knuckle grazing the edge of the hair.

“ _Officially_.”

“I’m the brand-new Hokage, and Leaf has a history with Sand, so you’re informing me on shared concerns of the villages.” Naruto has thought about this already. “Plus we’re both veterans. It’s taking so long ‘cause we know each other personally.”

“ _Hah_. That’s not the only question they’ll have, though.”

“What other questions could there _be_?” He’s let go. The threat has passed. He probably needed that hand back for gesticulating.

Gaara hides the relief with the first concern that comes to mind. “You’ve spent two weeks in Suna. Where are you staying?”

“The Kazekage’s house.” Prompt. Naruto’s good at this.

“Why?”

This one takes longer.

“You know what? I’m the dunce. I’m not _supposed_ to have all the answers, not even as Hokage.”

The collar is pulled down, and Naruto leans forward. “Why don’t you tell me?”

The faster Gaara answers, the faster he can repair _the_ _pipe_. “Secrecy. Diplomacy. Hospitality.”

“Good job. Little less panic for real, though, ‘kay?”

Naruto hums as he thinks. Absentmindedly, he leans his cheek to Gaara’s newly-stripped neck, and Gaara finds he cannot think at all.

“Where’s the Hokage sleeping?”

“Guest bed.” That second part barely makes it out as a wheeze.

“You’d better get one before somebody checks. Mm, what do you do with him during the day?”

“Discuss. Eat ramen.”

“Best answer yet right there. So, is that every-? Oh, I’ve got one!”

Gaara tenses, readying for the final practice question.

Naruto must have been counting on that. With every sensation straining, even this faint brush of Naruto's lips over the nape of his neck sends a _jolt_ arcing down. The gasp it draws out is enough to make Naruto chuckle, smile still pressed to skin.

Then he’s not being held down to the chair anymore. Instead, the chair is spun around—leave it to Naruto to abuse the capabilities of modern office furniture—and Gaara is staring into the most innocent shade of blue there has ever been.

“Lord Kazekage, how’d you get so ruffled from just a day in the office?”

“. . . Clarify.” Gaara suspects that such innocence cannot be trusted as reality. He’s proven right by a _giggle_ —yes, he heard that right, does Naruto think this is his jutsu?

“I mean, your hair’s all messy. Look how red your face is. And, are you _panting_? What _happened_ in there?”

Naruto’s eyes are round and wide and _devious_ enough for Gaara to count every last twinkle, and that is unfair.

“Indecency.” That’s the only word Gaara has left. And he absolutely can’t share any of the accompanying images.

At least Naruto knows when he has to give up the act. “That’s about right,” he admits.

Did Gaara lose consciousness? Did he pass out from a nosebleed? Because he lost track of something, somewhere along the line. When did his back hit on the floor? When did Naruto get so close? Gaara could blink and his eyelashes might touch those little fox whiskers.

“But _maybe_ don’t give _that_ answer to your village?”

If Gaara could still talk, he wouldn’t dream of it.

***

They settled on ‘wind’ for messy hair and ‘desert heat’ for the others. But no one thought of an ‘official reason’ for wobbly legs.

At least Temari only narrowed her eyes a little when she stopped them in the street and handed Naruto the scroll. She said nothing, but Naruto still tried to tone down that grin and look suitably chastened, while Gaara tried to walk in a straight line and look suitably chaste.

Neither had much success.

So it is with great relief that the door is finally closed—and everything in the slightest official left outside with it. Gaara is sure.

“Who is it from?”

“Konoha.” Naruto tosses it over. “I’m making dinner.”

Naruto is the better cook, and Gaara is the better reader. It’s clear where to go from here.

***

Gaara can never be sure of anything again.

“You shouldn’t have let me look!”

“Why not? I trust you!”

“Not even the Alliance lets us pry into—”

“ _You_! Not the Fifth Kazekage!”

“So you know they’re not one and the same.”

“Rogue ninja. Akatsuki remnants. You get those all the time, too. Every village does. What’s so secret?”

“You’re the Hokage.”

“That’s where this all started! Why do you keep—”

“Because you’re the Hokage here, too. And I’m the Kazekage here, more than anywhere.”

“I don’t get—”

“Go home.”

“I don’t want—”

“You shouldn’t want.”

“Gaara.”

“No. Not Gaara. Not me.”

“Then what?”

“I’m not your dream.”

“I can have two!”

“Not these two!”

“Why?”

Naruto's voice breaks. Gaara has no answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoooo boy.  
> This took a turn that wasn't planned and I'm sorry but at the same time I'm not because it's so satisfying to rip your own heart out??  
> I really wanted to explore the development of their relationship over a period of time where they're getting comfortable with each other--you can see that in the way they go back-and-forth in the first part. And Gaara's a little less innocent now. (It's all Naruto's fault.)  
> After that, I experimented with a type of writing I'm rather falling in love with--dialogue-only flash fiction. I thought it was appropriate for the so-far-mostly-mysterious /turn/ that struck me, and that's because--  
> Gaara's moments of falling deeper and deeper in love with Naruto, I write them to be so /rich/, or at least I try. All the senses, all the feelings, everything. They're in their own world together. And in the final section, the idea was to rip all that away to leave little more than bare, raw conversation. I'll let you interpret that how you will as I dry my tears of fury at myself for having this idea.  
> We'll learn more of what happened in the next and final installment.
> 
> That sounded more ominous than intended.
> 
> I'll be adding explanations and clarifications, for this part and the entire series, as I think of them. (I don't want to lose any *punch* on the next one with a super-long series-wide endnote.)  
> First, on this specific part, I want to talk a little bit about the 'practice questions.' As I said at one time or another already, I headcanon that marriage equality is pretty great in the Ninja World--and back when the Sand Siblings were questioning the relationship, it was a matter of 'what if he hurts our little brother?' not 'wait, he's a /he/?' So if the fear of homophobia and rejection plays any part in their desire for a cover story, it's not the biggest one. Mainly, they're nervous about any 'scandal' surrounding two leaders from different villages sharing a bed, literally and otherwise. Although, in the first section at least, are they even really that nervous? Gaara's concerned about Naruto's reputation, and Naruto is humoring him more than anything. (Plus, I'm thinking Naruto saw the opportunity to turn the questioning into funtimes pretty much immediately, so he had an ulterior motive.)  
> Second, on the series timeframe--I have it so that Naruto is Hokage four years after the FGNW, which would give Kakashi three years in the position /at most/, in keeping with the events of Lightning in the Frozen Sky. (For reference, I think Tsunade got five to six years, since Naruto was twelve or thirteen when she came to Konoha.) I realized this just recently, and it's too late to go back and edit all the age/timeframe-related trains of thought now, so apologies to all those Kakashi fans out there. (Including myself.)br />  
> ALSO, CAN WE /PLEASE/ TALK ABOUT that part where Naruto dazzles Gaara with his eyebrows, and Gaara's thinking of all the ways to describe an eyebrow raise, and he mentally cuts himself off before he can think the word 'cock'? Because I just reread this and remembered doing it and that is seriously all I will ever be able to talk about again.  
> More to be added as questions are asked and ideas wake me up in the night.


End file.
